Hate You For Always
by MetaLucario
Summary: "You don't know anything." My tone was calmer than death. That should've warned him that I was too dangerous to stay near him. That arrow found his chest before he saw me draw the string back. I had already nocked another arrow before he could move. It found its way to his eye, and the blood pooling around him in such deep, alluring, crimson drew me forward with hunger.


A/N: my first attempt at comedy… may not be very funny, unless you're a violent, crazy, and very depressed person. Nevertheless, it may be quite humorous. Just give it a shot, and let me know.

First part is based off a glitch situation that happened to me while playing a month and a half ago… I discovered that if you don't land you can have sahrotaar lock onto and attack Miraak, but it doesn't always work.

Next three parts are of things I tried to do and say in front of alduin, sadly the game wouldn't let me...

This is my actual in game character, but an originalish storyline, and the name is changed due to the fact that "Tsuki" is already a character in my other fic…

I own OC's and plot and that's it

Well, this was awkward. Sahrotaar was breathing ice on an ethereal Miraak, who had been standing there completely incapable of dealing or taking damage for the past ten minutes. He had his arms folded, and was staring at me with slight annoyance. You see, Sahrotaar had gone a bit crazy. He wouldn't listen to me telling him to stop, because the battle wouldn't progress till he did. He didn't even care when my flawless ebony sword found its way up his ass. Or in his face. Lucien had lost it as well, so I had banished him back to Sithis care. And now Sahrotaar was blocking Miraak from whirlwind sprinting off to transport himself into the middle acid puddle. And he was too pissed to let Miraak use the soul-taking shout. So I stood there and did everything I could to stop him, and Miraak stared at me with a look that told me plainly that I was hopeless, and an idiot. Forget his earlier remark about me being more powerful than he had expected. I was an idiot. Pure and simple. I stared right back at Miraak now, at a complete loss of what to do. I knew from personal experience that he couldn't hear me, but I got my point across by simply shrugging. He understood, and pointed towards the cliff edge, then at himself, then at me. We didn't get along, due to the fact that he wanted me dead, but we would have to find a way to now. The only way he would drop his ethereal would be if we got away from the currently insane dragon. Then we could likely finish our battle in peace.(Well that assumption was quite wrong.) I decided that now was the time for action, so I let my shout lose at the edge of the temple.

"Feim.. Zi…Gron" Suddenly I could sort of hear him, as we were now in the same state. Either way I wouldn't have heard his next shout, as the ethereal left the second he said it. The point of me being ethereal was so I could safely break the fall when we both landed.

"Wuld… Nah…Kest." I felt as though my stomach was far away. I've never much like long falls, though I have been forced into certain situations where they became the more likeable than, let's say a dwarven blade trap. But when you couldn't feel your limbs, or smell anything, the feeling was ten times worse. I heard a smack as the ethereal wore off, thankfully after we landed, and I pushed him off onto a different part of Kruziikrel's back. I glared at him for a good ten minutes before a thought finally hit him, after this whole year since he'd started to regain power.

"I realized something, now. We are the only remainder of an endangered species." Was he trying to cajole me out of fighting? Trying to break my barriers so he could win?

"Prophecy states that I am the last dragonborn, but we both know that may not be quite so accurate. Why do you mean to bring this up? If you're wondering, no I have no interest in reproduction. I'm already well aware that I'm barren anyway." He looked up at that last part. I swear I could see revulsion in his eyes. "Besides I hate you anyway." My tone was as casual as it was when I sat and discussing the properties of cheese with a certain daedra.

"Only because I tried to kill you right?" He seemed certain of his answer and slightly bored of the conversation.

"No. Because you actually were given the choice that I've prayed to be offered, but you tossed it aside." I wasn't really about to tell him what that choice was, he could figure that one out.

"You still haven't defeated Alduin, am I correct?" Again that overly cocky tone. I wanted to punch him. "Is there a reason for that?"

"I owe him a life debt. That, and well there was sort of this whole situation. It got in my way."

"And how is that?" He was mildly interested now.

"Well, it's a long story, but I guess we have some time…" I went through a retelling of my little "adventure" at Helgen, and then came the real issue….

I stood there fifty feet from the burial mound, hiding back behind the rocks, and slowly creeping forward, not wanting to be seen. I had no reason for sneaking, other than the ability to claim I could sneak up a deity. (Sheogorath did not count, as his attention span was worse than that of a two year old). Alduin turned his head slightly and stared me point blank in the eye, alerting me that he was already aware of my presence, with a steady gaze of crimson. I stood up and kept walking. He actually waited there for me to finish making my way over. I noticed that he had a disdainful revulsion glowing from his eyes. Oh, that would be at the skeever dung. I guess that was taking it way to far…

"I know you came here to watch me raise him…" here he indicated at the mound, "however, I don't believe I want to entertain one who reeks so strongly of skeever. Rid yourself of that horrid stench if you wish for me to proceed." Was it really that bad? Wow… I had no idea at all. Then again, I had sort of adjusted to the smell, I found the worthless creatures all the time in my home. I beckoned to Cicero to hurry over, and walked towards the river. I knew there was no other way around this other than simply leaving-but that wouldn't be fun. I hid behind a rock, and stripped off the stolen armor, then proceeded to clean the feces off of my skin. I casually sent a conversation starter off in the world-eaters general direction.

"So I discovered what my birthright is." I said in a pretty excited manner. I don't really get excited, or even speak too often, but this was something I was proud of. I peeked out at him, from around the rock to see if he was listening. He chuckled darkly.

"And what might that be?" He found me amusing. Well, I guess that's what older siblings are supposed to do right? At least he was paying attention this time…

"I have the right, and the claim to the throne of emperor." I stated. He nodded, still very amused with my "childish" antics. "Because, from Tiber Septim in the first era, all the way through Martin Septim two-hundred years ago all the emperors were dragonborn. That and I killed the last emperor with a spoon, while invisible." He seemed a bit skeptical about me killing the Emperor, so I pulled out the spoon, with Titus Mede II's blood still on it. That amused him more than anything else so far. I ignored his apparent amusement at me for not being such a "valiant hero" as he'd thought before he saw me at Helgen, but I was no longer the "frightened child" from Helgen either. It had honestly been four years since then, and on my eighteenth birthday, I had become a vampire. I looked at the telltale paleness of my skin, as I stared at my reflection in the water. Bright yellow eyes stared back at me. It was still unnerving to see them, as I was used to the pale grey color of before, yet they went well with my pale reddish hair. I was growing tired of standing here. I called for Cicero to hurry, and once he arrived, I asked him to assist me with my armor. At that, I got a chiding remark from Alduin, something about a warrior not knowing how to dress herself. I responded that I was raised as a politician's daughter, my mother, a thalmor ambassador, having been married to the governor of the newly rebuilt Kvatch. It was only for reasons of establishing an alliance. I wasn't taught how to dress myself, and it was due to him that fighting ever became a necessity. Besides, I wasn't a warrior, but an assassin and a mage. And I killed bards and farmers for personal amusement. And anyone whom I found annoying. Including the children…

Finally I stood there completely clothed in armor, Cicero still held my weapon when then resident ebony-colored-menace called me closer. I was too confused to question, and I merely walked towards him. He was about to ask me a question when He suddenly whipped his head around, and so did I. We both had sensed the auras of the robed men that were approaching. They wore masks, but not of a type I had seen before. One came up and questioned me as to whether or not I was the dragonborn, and when I said yes, he just attacked me right there. I pulled my hand back then rammed it into his gut as hard as I could, which knocked the wind out of him. I heard another one came from behind me, and I whirled around to face him.

"Fus…Ro…Dah…" The robed man went soaring through the air, colliding with the pile of rocks I'd been bathing behind earlier. His body made a satisfying crunch as the sharpest of the stones impaled him, and I laughed, not noticing the next enemy to come up behind me. Before I had time to react I was pinned firmly on the ground. The man lifted his sword over my head, and I wished I had saved my voice, as my breathlessness was still apparent. I sat and waited for my soul to be banished to the void, only to find the weight suddenly gone, and a large, dark, maw clasping the dead man tightly, ready to throw him as far as possible. I decided to go search their bodies before the shock settled in, and I discovered a curious note on one of them. Upon seeing what I had found, Alduin demanded I read it at once. Clearly he didn't want anyone else killing what he'd already deemed as "his property", and desired to know who would possibly have reason to come after me. I sighed, and read the note out loud. I was uninterested, and it was an unfamiliar name, some person on some remote island. Really, I couldn't possibly have cared less, but the second the name Miraak left my lips a certain god of destruction lost whatever calm demeanor he'd held before.

"Clearly it would seem you aren't the only one of your kind alive, dovahkiin." He didn't seem too pleased about it though. I looked at him curiously, and he just glared. Not at me particularly, but at everything. I knew the look in his eyes. Ok, this was clearly something that greatly displeased him, if he was about to go destroy a town to vent over it. He just left the mound there, and flew off, and I could already hear the people of Riverwood screaming, even from here. Good thing Hadvar was at the camp with Rikke and the others, or else I might've actually cared about the village. I just hoped Delphine wasn't home, because she still owed me for stealing that worthless paper from the Thalmor. They still considered me an enemy, and I was one of them. But clearly, my ear-shape and affinity for magic didn't make them like me. I wished it did though… On second thought, I wanted to go watch the town burn (especially if the blonde blade was there), but I couldn't get there quick enough. The town would be an ash pile, some charred corpses, and a few blackened wood beams before I got there. And I really wanted to hear Delphine's screams...

Wait she was right there, not even three feet from me. When the void did she get here, and how had I not noticed her approaching? She must have seen… wait, did she see me converse so casually with… ? This might not go so well. I already knew what was coming, as she'd been over her views with me plenty of times before.

The second she began the lecture about me being dragonborn and about how I was supposed to kill dragons, I lost it. I blatantly reminded her that I had the blood and the soul of a dragon, essentially meaning that I really owed them more allegiance than I owed her. I also reminded her that she did not own me, and in fact she had more need of me than I had of her. Then I spit in her face, and was about to see if I could shout her to pieces, when "he" suddenly came back. I hastily turned around to find him slightly calmed down. I waited, knowing that if I brought the name from the note up again, he may have a repeat. Delphine sat there completely ignored, forgotten by us both. I sat there, and waited for three long minutes, and without me having to ask, he explained to me, in a very hateful manner, exactly who Miraak was. Then he told me that he was rather keen on the idea of me going to the island of "Solstheim", so I actually met Miraak, and the second I laid eyes on the man I hated him. Then there was the discovery that old Hermaeus Mora was behind everything. That brought my rage out in full. I had already told that hideous slime-ball that I would never belong to him, that I did not believe in fate and thus his powers meant nothing to me. I valued wisdom more than actual knowledge anyway. Besides, even if serving him did appeal to me, he would have to get in line. Every last daedra, aedra, or other deity (aka Sithis), wanted me. And with only apparent one exception, and even he had some possessiveness over me, even if it was only the desire to kill me because of my blood and some ancient prophecy. And sadly, that singularly exception was the one I really wouldn't mind giving into completely.

That particular exception wasn't really in the mood to talk when I came back from Solstheim. That is, until I told him that I'd met Miraak, in the realm of the one being I despised the most at that. As well as how the ex-priest had mocked me, then sent me back to Mundus like I was nothing. I told him about my utter lack of the knowledge needed to defeat the damned nord in question, and my apprehension and dread of asking the daedric mass of tentacles for help. I asked the world-eater if he would help me train to defeat Miraak as I already decided that I hated the man. All I received from the dovah was a cold remark about how he wasn't in the mood to teach his enemy in an art that could be used against him. So I turned around and faced the edge of the cliff where we were conversing, and I tried to hide my utter disappointment.

"I guess I can ask the Greybeards. I think their leader might know, because even though they haven't let me go up and speak to him, I have seen him. I know Parthurnax is a dragon, because he's always flying around the mountain peak…" I didn't understand at the time, but an unexpected anger overtook the ebony-scaled menace behind me, much like before with the mention of the name Miraak. Suddenly there was a loud thud, and I found the only available pathway down to be blocked by a giant tail the exact color of a stormy midnight sky. When I looked at his eyes, the expression in them sent fearful shivers along my spine and I instantly understood that he wasn't about to allow me to leave anytime soon.

"Nid, dovahkiin! Hiu fen ni dreh naan grik ahmik wah dii hokoron. Hiu fen meyz dii mal tahrodiis saviik." I shivered once more, but not out of fear. Either the being looking at me with a fierce possessiveness (that came out of nowhere) didn't notice the shudders, or had he merely thought it was due to the sudden drop in temperature, because he turned and focused his rage towards the top of the mountain in the distance. Even from here I recognized the place, and the look in his eyes foretold of a strong hatred. The kind fostered by the betrayal of someone close. I knew that feeling very well myself, and decided there that I wanted to help him gain his revenge.

The next few months went by too fast, and were a bittersweet torture to me. My new "teacher" was very assertive, and had expectations that were far too high for even me to deal with. I found myself falling into a depressed melancholy after only the first week, because I was disappointed with myself. I have always been sensitive to a fault, but my excessive desire to believe everything he told me made things infinitely worse. Every time my attempt at the shout was anything less than perfect he would chide me for some weakness or another, and my sudden desire to prove myself in addition to my depression only put more pressure on me. In a way it prolonged my time there, on top of other things. What I did not realize was that he was purposely dragging it out for his own reason. I had always believed myself to be a perfectionist, but now under his training I saw what a real one looked like. But even in spite of all the insults, sudden bouts of rage, and the forceful methods of my teacher I was unexplainably pleased by his attention, and every little one of the sparse compliments drew me farther from the purpose for which I was born. I became desperate to impress him during the practices, and although I was completely unaware he had noticed my behavior, I was even less aware that it pleased him; I believed that he thought of me as a mere toy. I thought he was training me only for the chance to make certain I would become an amusing opponent, I believed that was all he'd ever see me as. Never had I been so wrong. I was too far gone under his mentoring to realize that he wanted to make me feel that way, out of fear that I would betray him, which was why he didn't want to recruit me. He was aware of my suffering, but he thought it was because I knew what he was doing, and I wanted to fight it. He thought I despised him, and wanted to defeat him more than anything. But by the end of the training he had grown more lenient, and I knew something was up. I thought he'd grown annoyed with me, and wanted to leave for something more important, so I said nothing, but I left once he said I was done.

I never had to talk to Herm-Mora but I did anyway, just to rub it in his face that I was the first to evade his grasp. He was shocked that I already knew the shouts, and that I flatly refused his demands about the Skaal. I merely left, and from there it was off to kill a certain masked-nuisance who was the same as me. I wanted to kill him, because I thought if I did it would make Alduin proud of me. And that was the whole reason I was here.

Of course I didn't tell Miraak everything. He didn't need to know who truly held my allegiance, it was of no importance to him. I noticed that Kruziikrel had slowed in his flight, and that there was a ledge with a small, closed off room that grew steadily closer. I looked at Miraak with confusion. He would be incapable of healing himself with Kruziikrel's soul if we fought in there... But Sahrotaar couldn't get in the way either. That made sense then... I felt the jarring crash of a landing, and to my surprise Miraak helped me down. We ran to the room as Sahrotaar grew nearer. He let me enter first, and now I was very confused. The mesh-like door shut itself behind us with a clang. A group of seekers looked our way, and I was hit with a wave of green energy.

"Wise move genius," I jibed sarcastically at him as I nocked my bow, and with a single lithe motion the arrow shot forward in a beautiful arch of pure gracefulness. The seeker howled in pain, and suddenly Miraak was there in front of the next one, hacking away with a tentacle-like sword. I shot the bow again and his went down as well, he nodded his thanks at me. The last one also met its end at the tip of an arrow, one with a very powerful, rare, poison in it; one I had also lit aflame as it shot forth. It held a deadly beauty as it fell down to bury itself down to the feather. The seeker fell with an audible thud, as the only other sounds were the breath of the only two left alive in the room. We turned to face each other, each at one end of the corridor, (it elongated as Miraak ran the length of it) he slowly opened his mouth.

"Hermaeus Mora is laughing at us you know" he said with some unplaced emotion clouding his voice.

"That or he's piss-drunk mad at us," I used Delvin's favorite expression in an attempt to alleviate the mood. It only slightly helped. "I mean, it's not like either of us is fond of the damned... thing." I couldn't find a word that accurately described the repulsive creature. And that was a feat, I had learned plenty of insults... mostly from Alduin, but I did pick up enough from the guild, and from random bandits.

"So you did not agree to be his champion?" Miraak seemed surprised.

"I'd rather become Malacath's personal nail-clipper." I said with a repulsed tone. "No, I didn't. I spat on him." At that Miraak laughed a bit. I joined in, much to my disgust. I couldn't fail now, befriending him was not an option.

"Do you want to make a truce? A pact of sorts until we can get away from Mora?" He asked this with a weird tone that made little sense to me. Surely I was imagining things.

"I will finish what I came here to do, Mora doesn't hold sway in this either way." My voice was steady and loathsome.

"That choice I threw away, the one you wished to be offered, what was it?" He waited, and when it became obvious I wasn't going to answer he pressed on. "You seem too willing to kill me for one who would eagerly bring about your demise. Do you think that if you defeat me, that if you run back to him with my blood still on your hands, that it will make Alduin realize that he holds your allegiance? Even if it does, he won't take you in. He has no more trust for our kind, he only sees you as his because he wants to be responsible for your death. Prove your loyalty to him and he'll only take advantage of it. He'd order you to kill yourself as well, and in your foolishness you would obey mindlessly. He doesn't care for you in any way. Don't you understand?" He sounded desperate to me. His words fell on deaf ears. I was gone completely already.

"You don't know anything." My tone was calmer than death. That should've warned him that I was too dangerous to stay near him. That arrow found his chest before he saw me draw the string back. I had already nocked another arrow before he could move. It found its way to his eye, and the blood pooling around him in such deep, alluring, crimson drew me forward with hunger. My fangs pierced through my bottom lip, and the urge grew stronger. His body started to disintegrate in that familiar way, and I walked forward only to find the way blocked.

"Your mockery will not go unpunished, dragonborn." That... That ... Oh how I absolutely hated, despised the damned menace. I glared at that abyss of tentacles with unkempt fury. I attempted to get around him, only to find myself back in the Skaal village. Everyone's eyes were on me, patient, expecting. I let out a feral scream and ran to the docks by Ravenrock, not stopping to even catch my breath. The captain was shocked by my impatient insistence that he take me back to Skyrim, but he didn't question. I was antsy the whole ride back, squirming, pacing, muttering. I couldn't sleep. Not yet. When the worthless contraption finally made it to the Windhelm docks, I continued my tireless running. I knew he expected me, he would meet me halfway. I saw his wings in the distance, and ran even faster, willing my muscles to aid me further. Before I knew it there he was, and I was before him once more. He took one look at me, and was sorely disappointed by my obvious incompetence. He masked this long enough to discover why I had returned already. I was still furious, and utterly breathless from my mad dash to him. He cleared a broken tree, and ordered me calmly to sit. I did without question. He waited for my breath to calm, and once it did I started to answer. In my enraged state I only could mutter one thing at a time. "It... Was... Mora..." I was furious still.

"You allowed yourself to be fooled by that shalom valor. He is nothing!" I lifted my head to see his expression. I was a disappointment to him. I looked shamefully to the ground.

"I at least managed to kill Miraak before..."

May! I do not sense his sil, his soul, in you. He can regain his strength once more, you were careless!" The look he gave me cowed me instantly. I could feel the saltwater on my cheek, and I hid it. I couldn't look week now, it wouldn't end well for me. Too late, he'd seen it. "I assume you are incapable of returning now? It's left unfinished."

"I failed now, but when he resurfaces on Nirn I will finish it. By my honor as an assassin, I will do as you wish and end his life. Even if it is the last thing I do." He chuckled darkly. The sound was unexpected, and startled me greatly. But when I saw his expression, I melted inside. I was lost to the world, and he knew it. He absolutely relished it, and I was afraid he didn't notice. But oh, he did. I was his perfect little slave, and he enjoyed it more than I knew. His tail found its way around me, and I was dragged closer. I relaxed in the warmth, and slowly felt myself falling asleep. I let him set me down beside the river, and watch me from a safe distance. I slept until late the next morning, when I woke to find him looking doubtfully at me. He seemed afraid of something, and suddenly Miraak's words found their way inside my head. I promptly shook them out. Then he looked away and the words repeated again. He didn't trust me. He didn't... No! I looked at him eagerly, and he calmly regarded my expression.

"Don't you have something you should be doing?" He asked, and I looked at him confused. "That blade woman was not pleased with you, and I have no interest in stopping you from... completing your purpose." Now I was staring blankly at him. "Unless you wish to battle out here, with no hope and no help.." I looked at him again.

"Why would I fight you?" I asked confused. He looked at me, and now he was confused. He thought to himself quietly to ascertain that he was indeed hearing this, and that I wasn't trying to trick him. I was lost, confused, and afraid I was missing something. He turned back to me, and his expression sent shivers down my spine for a few reasons. I found myself hopelessly lost. Not confused, but lost. As in, desperately, hopelessly under his control. He didn't seem to notice, and sent me off to the blonde captain. He still thought I despised him. Why? I asked him what he'd do if I stayed there, and he gave me an incredulous look.

"Has the mal saviik lost the will to fight? Or is it something else entirely? I don't appreciate the questioning and disobedience, but I will accept you surrender... If that is what you wish." He was slightly pleased by my desire to stay, I could sense it.

"Yes. I want..." Suddenly I felt something knock me on the head, and my vision blanked. I woke up to a shouting match, and saw that Delphine was stubbornly yelling in an attempt to convince Alduin to "release" me. He was uncertain of what she meant, as was I.

I turned to look at her, and after a slight hesitation I let out with

"Iis Slen Nus!"

And Delphine became an incapacitated mass of frozen blade. I ran to him and looked up, ready to finish the conversation from earlier. He looked down expectantly, and suddenly Delphine began spewing garbage to me about resisting his control. Alduin laughed, a dark resonating sound that further infuriated the incapacitated breton. I looked at him, sharing in his amusement. I looked at Delphine and then, on the urge to make her squirm with fear and anger I looked back at Alduin and asked him, really loudly, if he would mind me killing her. He found that oddly amusing, somehow. Then he told me not to mess up this time, and his eyes went dark and threatening. I nodded, then shot an arrow in her foot, prepared to make this slow, I shot the other foot, then slowly both of her legs were stock full of little arrows. Next her arms.

The resident world-destroying-dragon-god seemed somewhat impressed by my fascination with torture, and with the gleam in my eyes as her blood spilled out of Delphine and steadily formed a crimson lake around her body. I began to grow bored of the torture, and promptly the blades were disbanded as the last of their order was killed. Esbern was a raving lunatic, who accounted for nothing. _Me _save the _world_? I want to know where he got his skooma; that must be strong stuff.

I look back and remember a little incident months earlier. I was pretty lazy with the whole dragonborn thing, I thought those nords had been deep in their cups or something. Drunken guards were the only explanation for someone assuming I was some legendary nord hero. So I took three years to go to High Hrothgar. Arngeir was highly unimpressed with my timing, but good old Wulfgar glared at him. Wulfgar was easily my favorite, as he was the only one who ever stood up for me. I loved listening to him tell Arngeir off in the dragon language, it was somehow the funniest thing to me. Old men yelling at each other in a language older than Nirn itself. So when I first met Delphine I found myself utterly uncaused by her. She was nothing but a strict warrior too set in her ways to care about anyone else's life or opinion. She wasn't a wise person, or a monk with an attitude. She had a very unlikeable personality. But the second she mentioned that she knew where one of the dragons was being raised, I reluctantly agreed to come with her. I tried so hard to leave her behind, to go ahead, but she was unphased. Eventually we reached Kyne'sgrove, and I slowed my pace. I looked up awestruck at the same dragon that saved my life three years before. He looked at me and I walked forward slowly, somewhat shocked. Everything had taken on an ethereal glow, and I stared up at him like nothing else was around for miles. He seemed to register my shock, but did not seem to care. I walked out to him, and Delphine looked at me like I was mad. I looked back at him, now directly beside him. He turned to face me…

"Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi. You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah." "I did not wish for any name or title other than the one bestowed on me by my parents. I still doubt myself as to whether or not this was all a mistake, I don't feel like a legend of any sort. I merely came here to thank you for saving me from execution that day." I looked at him calmly, eyes betraying no emotion. He stared at me, with some interest. I wasn't quite what he had expected.

"You speak as one of noble blood, dovahkiin. Tell me, how you came to have a death sentence." He seemed confident that I would tell him everything, and for some unexplainable reason I did.

"I was born as royalty, yes, trained for court and for rule. I turned my back on politics and comfort after my best childhood friend betrayed me for a handful of gold." I was shocked more than anyone when that left my lips. I'd never told anyone. Not since I left Cyrodil. The last part caught his attention.

"Betrayed you how?" There was an odd spark in his eyes as he asked me.

"It's quite complicated. He framed me for thievery, so I killed his family." Not something you expect to hear from a seventeen year old. For an elf that was still early childhood… The dragon looked at me now, with disbelief in his eyes. Naturally no one suspected me of being a cold-blooded killer. I was a tiny little elf, who could barely hold a short sword with both hands, let alone use one, but my aim with a bow was lethally accurate, and I was quite adept at most magic. That was how I killed the mother, with a frost rune hidden on her chair. The father took a firebolt to the head, and his younger sister, Lucy, was taken down with a poisoned arrow. And when I finally reached Cedric's room, I summoned a dremora to finish him off. Not exactly subtle, but highly effective. I slipped silently out his window and ran to my house, unaware that the guards were on my tail. I saw them as I reached my door step, and I sprinted, out my window, at my top velocity. They had me for two charges now. I ran to reach the border where, I prayed, I would find safety. All I found was a headsman's axe, and an ancient prophecy. Not exactly what I had wanted from Skyrim. It would at least be tolerable if the nords weren't all narcissistic, rude or drunkards. But they all were. And even more so to me, because I was an elf. So I began killing them. And I began to find myself enjoying it more and more. Eventually I found myself to be an assassin, and a worshipper of Sithis. Not exactly what one would call a hero, yet everyone insisted that I was, even the daedra insisted upon calling me that. All but Sheogorath, anyway. He was the only one of them I managed to even remotely like. In fact I found myself being transported to New Sheoth rather frequently, and I found I quite enjoy those strawberry torts. Not to mention that the Wabbajack came in handy more than a few times. And that particular staff was the weapon I had chosen for that particular occasion. I let it rest at my side, untouched. I looked up once more as my reverie ended.

"Ful fin vohind hun dahmaan ekii saviik. Hiu dreh ov fin vahzen tol mu fen grah. Hiu fen saan." He said this with conviction, but I only understood a third of the words that he spoke. All I remember after that was the strange effect of my chosen weapon. He had Salkonir attack, so I defended myself with the madgod's staff, and Salkonir turned into a sweetroll. It was the weirdest experience I had to date. Alduin looked at me confused, and slightly angry. I was at a loss as to what just happened so I just stared forward blankly, and looked at the sweet roll. I hit it, and suddenly a dremora was attacking me. He dispatched the weak daedra with one bout of his breath. I was absolutely amazed and stood there drawing blank. He shoved my staff arm roughly, and I shot it once more. Now Salkonir was a bunny, but he was breathing. I found my bow and shot him, knowing he would return to normal once I did. After that I had two slightly pissed off, very confused dragon's staring at me awaiting an explanation.

"Sheogorath." Was all I gave them for an answer. It was clearly enough for them. So I left it.

Now I sat somewhat reminiscent, about those days, and frankly the moment I had right now was more than enough for me. I was glad I'd made that choice. No there was only one problem left to deal with, all I had to do was wait…

.

A/N: wow…. My high score for word count….. Never again

Nid, dovahkiin! Hiu fen ni dreh naan grik ahmik wah dii hokoron. Hiu fen meyz dii, mal tahrodiis saviik- No, dragonborn! You will not do such a favor to my enemy. You will become mine, little treacherous savior.

Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi-So, you're the Dragonborn? Your voice shines not from Dragonkind, but from yourself

Ful fin vohind hun dahmaan ekii saviik. Hiu dreh ov fin vahzen tol mu fen grah. Hiu fen saan.- so the unwilling(wishing) hero remembers her savior. You do realize that one day we will battle and you will lose.


End file.
